Dark Heart of the Sun (Dark Destinies Book 1) (23 page)

Cassidy stared at him, glanced at the hole in the wall. Pieces of wood and chunks of plaster clattered in the swirling cloud of dust. “What—?”

“Oh, you’re so dead, man,” Zack said, shaking stringy hair out of his eyes. “Shoulda run when you had the chance.”

Ignoring these dire predictions, Dominic kept his gaze trained on the hole as he slung the swords off his back in a surreal blur of movement. The steel blades hissed lethal promises as they unsheathed. The scabbards rattled to the floor, kicked aside. Light flashed along the razor-sharp edges that whirled, hummed, and moved into position, crossed low in front of him.

Very calmly he said, “Come and get me, old man.”

Wind rushed through the room, kicking up the debris in a swirl of motion. On the room’s far end, though, there was nothing but the hole in the wall. A thump, the swish of sword blades, a grunt, a sharp cry of pain. Cassidy spun on a heel and stared, slack-jawed and uncomprehending, at the fantastical scene of Dominic stuck halfway up the wall. His paper white face twisted in a hideous grimace.

It took her several seconds to understand that what kept him pinned up there were his own swords. Both their hilts protruded from his chest.

The boy reeking of lust and refuse laughed. “Told ya, you shoulda
run.”

Rage and pain tore through Dominic. He’d let his own terror render him blind to the true extent of the threat posed by the ancient Roman. All because of Serge and his inane babbling. He should have killed that delusional old fool then and there on the roof and been done with him. Now he certainly would never get the chance. The price for that mistake would be his life.

And Cassidy’s.

Arie sneered at him. “Stupid child.”

Dominic slammed his hands and heels into the wall for purchase and arched his back against the hand guards. Every movement sliced more lung, flesh and bone even as the wounds tried to heal around the cold, sharp steel planted to either side of his frantic heart. Hitting the heart would have been a mercy. It wouldn’t have killed him, but the blood loss would have rendered him unconscious—and of little entertainment value.

A cry of agonized frustration ripped from his throat.

“No. Stop this, please.” Her voice, so soft and human, wrapped around him, calming him. She rushed closer, stared up at him, wide-eyed with confusion and shock. “How the hell . . .  Oh, my God, Dominic . . .”

No, this wasn’t how he wanted her to find out about him. But at least no scent of fear hovered about her. Only outrage. He tasted blood in his mouth, felt it flow from his nose. He tried to smile for her and failed. She didn’t believe this was real. Like the sweet kiss in her bed, this, too, was merely a dream.

And in her dream, her hands wrapped around the hilts of the swords—and stopped. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Pull, Cassidy,” he whispered. “Pull them out.” Not that he truly believed she could. Or that Arie would let her. No matter. He’d take any chance he could to save her life right now, no matter how remote.

She dropped her hands. “I can’t. I could kill you. Stay still. I’ll have to call 911.”

Arie tossed back his head and boomed with laughter. “Sweetheart, you really have no idea what you are trying to free, do you?” He appeared all too eager to explain.

Dominic growled a warning.

“Geeze. You don’t know when to quit, do you?” the boy chided.

Cassidy took a step back.

“
Non,
” Dominic said quickly. “I am sorry, Cassidy,
mon amour
. So sorry I brought you into this.” He swallowed a gob of blood, coughed. “So sorry . . . that I cannot save you. Forgive me. I beg you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you never will.”

“Someone hand me a fucking box of tissue,” the boy scoffed.

Aurelius cast his minion a disapproving look before crossing his arms and leaning against a wall. He looked composed and thoughtful in spite of his now disheveled appearance. His bright shirt was un-tucked, one sleeve hanging by a shred. A hole gaped at the knee of his slacks and both shoes were gone. Thick hair stood on end around his brutish face.

“This human means that much to you? You would give your life for hers?”

“
Oui.
” No hesitation.

“What?” Cassidy squeaked, looking between them. “No. No, this is crazy. What are you talking about?”

The ancient one ignored her. “Well, I won’t ask your life, pup. But I will demand your loyalty and obedience until such time as I can deliver you back to your sire, who . . . will be most grateful.”

Dominic couldn’t suppress the tremor crawling in his flesh. Death. He wanted death. Not hell at the hands of the creature that had sired him. But even this would not be too high a price for her life. “And she walks free.”

“With no memory of this night.” The Roman’s voice was low and mocking. “Or you.”

His heart sank. “
Oui,
” he whispered and watched tears glint in Cassidy’s eyes. She may not understand the literal deal he had struck, but she understood the meaning. “Send her away. Now.”

Aurelius reached out and pulled her close, his arm draped over her chest, possessive. “Then again, I may not be as strong as you where she is concerned. She is so very”—he made a show of sniffing her neck while his free hand traveled suggestively over her belly, tugging at her dress, and squeezed one breast—“tempting.”

Cassidy squirmed like a landed fish. The stink of her growing horror began to overpower the smell of blood and damp filth.

Dominic snarled. “You have me. You have no need of her.”

“You forget yourself. What I have no need of is to make bargains. What I want, I take.”

The wretched boy giggled. “Got that right.”

Cassidy whimpered, and Arie’s eyes flared with the darkness of bloodlust.

“Wait.”

Everyone’s head turned as one to the door where a familiar, bug-eyed face peered around the side and cleared his throat. “These two. They’re under my protection.”

Chapter 23

Awakening

Arie dropped her. Cassidy managed half a step before her legs buckled and she sagged to the floor, trembling with a fist of ice punching her guts. Nothing made sense. The nightmare wouldn’t end. It only got worse.

A compact little man in torn, stained clothing sidled into the room mouse-like. This one she had never seen before. And yet, there was something familiar about him. Though not in a good way. Not that it mattered right now. So long as he wasn’t a friend of Arie and Zack’s.

Arie gave the new arrival a narrow look. “Under your protection, are they?”

The little man nodded, the springy curls around his head bouncing, his face all eyes. He glanced at Dominic who had gone so still he looked like a grotesquely posed mannequin. The stranger rubbed at his throat and swallowed. “Headstrong, that young one. You know how they are.” With a casual gesture at Cassidy, he added, “This is all that keeps him reined in, you see.”

Cassidy tried not to move, not to breathe, and wished she could disappear into the floor. She couldn’t begin to guess at what was going on here. Except that the consequences of failure would be lethal.

Again the little man cleared his throat. Drumming his fingertips together, he lowered his head and looked up at Arie sheepishly. “They are my responsibility, they are. Both of them. Apologies if they overstepped their bounds. It will not happen again.”

“So . . . you guys got a convention going on here this weekend, or what?” Zach wondered.

Arie tilted his head to the side. “You are not his sire.”

“But I taught him everything he knows. He is therefore mine.”

“I would like to see you tell his real sire that.”

One shoulder shrugged. “What that one cannot appreciate, I gladly take into my care.” He took two steps backward, bowed at the waist, and placed a hand on his chest. “Again. Apologies.” Turning on a bare heel, he bustled for Dominic. “We will be going now and leaving you to your business.”

“
They
are my business,” Arie countered.

The stranger grabbed the sword hilts with both hands and pulled. Dominic’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as the blades slid free. He crashed to the ground, limp, then stirring, struggling to his hands and knees in a pool of blood.

Cassidy screwed her eyes shut. Not real. None of this was real.

She startled when the little man squealed with surprise. He had trouble keeping the swords under control. A razor-sharp tip whizzed past Dominic’s ear, and he dropped flat to the ground.

“Sorry. Sorry, blood-child. Ungainly things. I don’t know how you . . . oh!” The blades swung behind him and collided with a rickety old side table, slicing through one leg. He sidestepped to escape the collapsing furniture, pulled one sword to the front again, and leapt straight up to avoid amputating his foot. He landed in an awkward tangle of arms and metal.

Cassidy felt faint as she realized one of those blood-soaked horrors had stopped mere inches from her face. The little man peered down at her, chagrined. “Apologies.”

Arie boomed a hearty laugh. “Incompetent fool. You wouldn’t have lasted a day in the Roman army.”

“Maybe so,” the stranger agreed. He looked over to where Dominic had regained his feet. When he glanced over his shoulder, his face, half-obscured by a shock of black hair, was blank of all emotion. His chin dropped almost imperceptibly before he faltered against the wall and groaned.

The stranger jammed the tip of the longer sword in the floor beside Cassidy where it stuck and swayed. He lifted the short sword and studied it. From her vantage point on the floor, Cassidy saw the unfocused look, the gap-toothed grin stretching his mouth, and shivered. Madness—with a lethal weapon.

“But you know,” he said, sounding wistful. “Blackbeard liked me just fine.”

She didn’t see him move, only heard the blade whistle as he vanished. A blood-curdling scream rent the air and something heavy thumped to the floor. Cool moisture spattered over her, making her flinch. The pine-forest smell smothered the air.

Suddenly, Dominic stood beside her. No, not Dominic. She stared up, mesmerized and horrified at . . . at the
thing
wearing his clothes, his hair. A blood-smeared skull face on a neck of tendons and veins. Spheres of polished obsidian glittered in the eye sockets. Powerful teeth—fangs!—curved in his wide-open mouth. His fingers, bony and claw-like, curled around the dragon sword hilts. A guttural growl rolled out of him, a low sound that thrummed with primal savagery.

The grim reaper incarnate.

Oh. My. God.
Cassidy went numb with shock.

“You cursed fools!” Arie roared. “You will pay for this with your wretched lives.”

Then he was gone, and so was Dominic. Wind gusted through the room. The front door banged back against the wall, then slammed shut.

“Holy fuck. Holyfuckfuckfuck . . .” Zack jabbered. He pressed against the wall, on unsteady legs, moving toward the hole in the wall. But his eyes were riveted to something next to Cassidy.

An arm. An
arm
lay beside her. It was thick with muscle and mottled tan below the elbow, pure white above. Blood poured from the cleanly sliced shoulder. The wrist wore Arie’s clunky gold watch.

Horrified, she shot to her feet and stumbled away. The wetness she had felt . . . blood. Raising her hands, she found them covered with the stuff. Her stomach heaved.

Thunderous rumbling shook the house. The door jerked on its hinges as though something massive crashed into it, and a rapid-fire
thwok-thwok-thwok
hammered the front wall—steel hitting wood—swords missing their mark.

“Motherfucker!”

Cassidy turned to see Zack draw a long, vicious-looking knife and race for the shattered remains of the back wall. Something moved in the middle of that mess, a figure clutching at his belly. The little man who had morphed from clumsy curiosity to arm-amputating demon.

“No!” Cassidy shrieked. Nightmare or not, this stranger had saved her life and given Dominic a fighting chance. No one would cut his throat while she stood around like a bump on a log. She rushed across the room and leapt over the filthy mattress, scattering the loose garbage. She stooped long enough to grab her bag and heft it into position.

Bearing down on Zack like a freight train, she met his flashing knife with a mighty swing of the bag, knocking it out of his hand. He lunged for her, and Cassidy swung the other way. The bag slammed into the side of his head with a crack. She hoped it wasn’t her camera breaking.

He staggered back. “You crazy fucking bitch.”

“I’ve had about enough of your filthy mouth.” Fueled by a mixture of adrenalin and fury, she charged after him, swinging her improvised weapon. It took him only a second to decide on a stumbling retreat through the hole in the wall.

Shaking, Cassidy turned back to the stranger—and went faint. He wasn’t clutching his belly. His bloody fingers worked at the splintered end of a two-by-four protruding from his gut. “How are you still alive?”

“I should not be, sweet one,” he said, grimacing. “But I’m glad I lived to see you fight for me. All will be as it must.”

She dropped to her knees beside him, hands hovering helpless over the unthinkable damage. “We need to get you some help.” She reached for the phone in her bag when one of his hands closed over her wrist so hard and fast she yelped. He loosened his hold. She met his eyes and exhaled sharply. They were too big for his face, and too dark. Like Dominic’s were dark. Like Arie’s were dark. Bottomless and hard.

“You’re the same,” she whispered. “All three of you. What—”

At the other end of the room, the boarded up window exploded in a cloud of shattered glass and wood. The leather-clad grim reaper crashed through it, back first, as though shot from a cannon. With swords flying out, extending to his sides, he back flipped the moment he hit the ground and sprang upright just in time to deflect the snarling fangs and bloodied skull face flying after him. An instant later, the Arie creature blurred towards Cassidy.

Something struck the back of her neck and pulled her down, slamming her face against the impaled man’s chest. Wind rushed over them, full of eerie screams and the fine, silver sound of razor-sharp steel.

Dear God! What is this?

The grip on her neck eased. She sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes with a shaky hand.

“We are not the same,” the man who shouldn’t be alive croaked.

His hand slipped off her shoulder, and Cassidy realized that he had pulled her out of Arie’s way, the only thing he could have done to save her. Again.

“The Roman, you see, he will kill us all. But Dominic, he will die for you. As will I.” Those black eyes snared her, held her immobile. A vague shiver of dread rattled her, but melted when he spoke in a voice so warm and resonant it felt like her own thoughts. “Do not fear me. I am your devoted servant. And never,
never
fear Dominic. He needs you, and he will destroy himself before he lays a hand on you. I know. I have seen him do it. Do you understand, sweet one?”

An odd calm settled over her, an absolute certainty, though of what exactly she couldn’t say. Her voice wouldn’t work, so she nodded.

“Good. Then run now. Run as fast as your feet will carry you.”

“But you—”

“
Run!
”

She sprang back as though leaping from a coiled snake. Snatching her bag, Cassidy bolted for the door. Outside, after the lantern light, the night rendered her almost blind, but she knew she couldn’t afford the time it would take for her eyes to adjust. She had to flee for her life. She groped her way out past the gate and onto the street where she could see the distant streetlamp.

She ran, driven on by the surreal chaos flitting through the darkness all around. Explosive crashes and inhuman roars moved from building to building. Mini tornadoes stirred trees and bushes at random and swept past her several times. Always there followed the rapid-fire sound of steel meeting wood, metal or anything else that got in the way.

Cassidy was almost at the intersection when someone slammed into her from behind and hooked an arm around her shoulders. “You’re not going nowhere, little bitch,” the beer breath said at her ear. “This is all your fault, and you’re gonna pay. Big time.”

Cassidy filled her lungs to scream but stopped when a cold, hard edge pressed against her throat. “Don’t even think about it. I know how to use this on pretty necks.”

Among the moves Dominic had taught her was one that might shake him off and break some fingers in the bargain, though that wouldn’t stop a knife from doing some serious damage in the process.

Then again, if none of this was real, that shouldn’t matter, right?

But she wasn’t sure about that anymore, not entirely.

Zack shoved her through a gate and into a small yard where two tiny solar-powered landscape lights glowed among the weeds. Another dark house. God only knew what horrors waited in there—or what he would do to her once he got her inside.

She tried for distraction. “What do you want with me anyway? I thought I’m not your type.”

“My dick don’t give a shit about your tits and you still owe me for biting me.”

Cassidy trembled.
No. Oh, no . . .

She made herself heavy in his arms, her legs dragging. Her sandals peeled off her feet.

“Stand up, bitch.” His grip on her tightened, crushing her throat until she wheezed for air, then loosened when a clucking commotion erupted beneath their feet. A chicken blustered hysterically, beating frantic wings against their legs. Sidestepping the bird, Zack swayed and wobbled. Metallic debris rattled underfoot. “Shit.”

Cassidy pushed off the ground and slammed her back into him. Together they tumbled into a bush that was apparently home to the chicken’s many friends. A flurry of clawed and feathered outrage rose around them, squawking and flapping. Desperate, she jabbed her fingers into the crook of his arm to force the knife away from her throat. With her other hand, she grabbed at his fingers and yanked back until the joints went limp in her grip.

Zack screamed. The knife flashed and slashed into her arm. A red-hot flame of pain seared the truth into her brain.

This was no dream.